


Grabbing Dick and Taking Names

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Banter, Cancer, Connor is DP and Evan is Vanessa because... reasons, Deadpool AU, Deadpool References, Deadpool Spoilers, Flashback, Flirting, Gay Angst TM, I had this idea and ran with it, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Not currently being worked on, Prostitution, Stand Alone, Swearing, WIP, as in the first chapter is stand alone and you don't need a second chapter, skeeball, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 05:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Connor held his hand out to shake. “Rough childhood?”Evan did another quick once-over of Connor before accepting the handshake. “Rougher than yours. Dad walked out when I was five.”“Pfft. I wish my dad had walked out. Daddy dearest kicked my ass on the daily.”“Ever had a cigarette put out on your skin?”“Where else do you put one out?”“I tried to kill myself.”“Only once? I tried every day for two months straight.”“No, not only once. Half a year, twice a day.”“I watched my own birthday party through the keyhole of a locked closet, which also happened to be--”“Your bedroom?” Evan shook his head, clucking his tongue. “Lucky you. I slept in a dishwasher box.”---The Deadpool/DEH AU that nobody wanted but I wrote anyways.





	Grabbing Dick and Taking Names

**Author's Note:**

> Ever wanted to see Dear Evan Hansen and Deadpool mixed together in a sickening mesh of quotes from the movie and references from the show? No? Well, too bad! 
> 
> Connor is Wade. Evan is Vanessa. Eventually, there will be a chapter two.

Honestly, he should have fucking expected cancer to get added to the list of things that were fucked up in his life. It wasn’t like it was a real shock, but  _ just  _ when things were finally looking up, did the universe really have to shit on him again? He’d had a steady relationship for nearly a year. He and Evan were planning on getting  _ married _ , for fuck’s sake! There had been a ring --a ring  _ pop _ , granted, but neither of them had been too picky about it-- and Evan had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

Unbidden, the memory of their first meeting floated into his mind, even though he was well-aware that he probably should have been paying attention to the doctor in front of them. 

 

They’d been at the bar. He’d just gotten back from threatening some sixteen-year-old stalker away from some pretty girl when Evan had come in, shoulders hunched and gaze downcast. He’d been  _ pretty _ , and Connor had been immediately interested. Newbies at the bar were few and far between; it was shady as fuck, and everyone knew it. The only people who ever showed up were regulars or customers for himself and his fellow mercenaries, and  _ they  _ were all shady as fuck. This kid… had  _ not  _ looked shady as fuck. 

He’d been wearing a coat, long and worn, and had gingerly made his way to the bar, neatly sidestepping the fight brewing in the centre of the establishment. His pale skin had positively fucking  _ glowed  _ in the shitty light, and Connor knew that he wasn’t the only one that had noticed, because Jared had leaned across from his place behind the bar and hissed something in his ear. It had been something rude, but most of what came out of Jared’s mouth was rude, so Connor had ignored it in favour of stepping away, right in front of the pale stranger. 

He’d looked up, and Connor had been struck dumb, momentarily, by the look in his eyes. There was a fight that he recognised, but it was muffled by an obvious nervousness that Connor didn’t think he’d ever felt himself. And then Connor recognised the black shimmer on his lashes, the dark lining around his eyes, and… Holy fuck, this guy was wearing  _ makeup.  _ And Connor knew he was fucking gone. 

“Hey there. What’s a nice place like you doin’ in a guy like this?” Real smooth, Murphy, real smooth. Awh, well. He’d used worse pick-up lines before. Connor smirked as though he’d meant it, leaning one hip against the bar. The guy looked him up and down a moment, Connor watched him do it because he couldn’t seem to look away from those fucking  _ eyes _ , and then quirked his lips up in a tiny semblance of a smile. It didn’t last long, though, as someone walked by behind him and slapped his ass.  _ Hard _ . Connor could feel the impact from where he was standing. He winced, glaring at the offending merc, who only grinned back at him drunkenly. “You gonna hit this, Murphy? Because if you don’t, I might have to--” 

“Hey, you shut the fuck up, or--” Connor interrupted, but closed his mouth with an audible snap as the guy whirled around and grabbed the merc’s dick, twisting his hand. The merc made a whining sound, knees buckling immediately. Connor winced, but couldn’t help glancing at the guy appreciatively. “--Yeah. That,” he finished weakly. 

“Say the magic words.” Oh, fuckfuckfuck, his voice was like spun honey or gold or some other romantic bullshit.  For a second, Connor was pretty sure that  _ he  _ was the one who’s dick was being grabbed. When nothing came out of the merc’s mouth, the other guy jerked his hand and the merc squeaked. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” His voice was pitched high, and Connor felt a tiny wave of sympathy for the idiot. 

“Breathe through your nose,” he suggested wryly. 

“I don’t have a filter between my mouth and my--” The sentence ended in another squeak as the guy’s hand tightened further, and Connor’s mouth fell open again before he waved a hand between the two of them. He could feel Jared’s gaze burning a hole in his back telling him to stop the fight, and as amused as he was, he didn’t feel like listening to Jared complaining if yet another fight broke out on his shift. 

“Woah, woah! Hakuna his tatas!” Connor pushed at the merc’s chest, and luckily, he was able to step back as the hand on his dick released. “He’s sorry. Get out of here.” The last was said roughly to the merc, who nodded once and rushed away, waddling as fast as he could. Connor automatically reached out to the other to steady himself, and he found his hand batted lightly away instead. 

“Hands off the merchandise,” he said, but he was doing that same half-smile thing that made Connor’s stomach flip. Connor’s brows flew up. 

“Ah. So you, uh… warm fuzzies for money?” 

“Yep.” The guy crossed his arms over his chest, and Connor for the life of him couldn’t tell if it was a self-conscious move or not. “And you are…? 

“Connor.” Connor held his hand out to shake. “Rough childhood?” 

“Evan.” The guy --Evan-- did another quick once-over of Connor before accepting the handshake. “Rougher than yours. Dad walked out when I was five.” 

“Pfft. I wish my dad had walked out.” There was a pause, as Connor dropped Evan’s hand, wondering how anyone’s hand stayed so fucking warm when it was so fucking cold out. “Daddy dearest kicked my ass on the daily.” 

Evan coughed, very obviously choking on a laugh, and then straightened up a little further. “Ever had a cigarette put out on your skin?” 

Connor bit his lip to try and keep himself from smirking too wide. “Where else do you put one out?” 

“I tried to kill myself.” 

“Only once? I tried every day for two months straight.” 

“No, not only once. Half a year, twice a day.” 

“I watched my own birthday party through the keyhole of a locked closet, which also happened to be--”

“Your bedroom?” Evan shook his head, clucking his tongue. “Lucky you. I slept in a dishwasher box.” 

Connor gave a dramatic gasp, enjoying the light in Evan’s eyes. “You had a dishwasher! I didn’t even get to sleep. It was pretty much twenty-four/seven ball gags, brownie mix, and clown porn.” 

Evan was the one to break their little competition, a surprised laugh slipping through those perfect fucking lips. And his  _ laugh _ . If his voice hadn’t been good enough, his goddamn laugh was enough to make Connor certain that he’d actually died and gone to heaven. Except he was pretty fucking sure that heaven wasn’t going to be where he ended up, so this was the closest thing he would ever get. 

“Who would do such a thing?” he asked, one hand in front of his mouth, muffling both the laugh and the question. 

“Hopefully you, later tonight?” Connor shot back innocently, voice raising at the end in a question. Evan laughed again, and Connor wanted to kick his own ass for how utterly  _ gay  _ he was. “What can I get for, uh--” Connor paused as he tugged out his wallet and thumbed through it for a second. One glance up told him that Evan was amused, his smile still mischievous. Thank  _ fucking  _ God. 

“--Two-hundred seventy-five dollars and an A La Mode rewards card?” He held up the card, and Evan bit his lip as he smiled and plucked it from his loose grip. 

“About forty-eight minutes of whatever you want,” he said, batting his lashes and placing the card against Connor’s lips. Connor immediately closed his mouth, and trailed after Evan as he turned away, ignoring Jared’s call behind him of, “Did he just put a gift card in your fucking  _ mouth _ , dude!?” 

 

Five minutes later had found them standing beside the skeeball machines, with Evan looking strangely uncomfortable. 

“It’s time to put balls in holes,” Connor said, lazily dropping a token into the slot and watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the skeeballs clacked into the open part of the holder in front of him. 

“We’re playing… skeeball?” Evan asked, sounding much more hesitant than he had back in the bar. 

“It was a tough call,” Connor told him, picking up one of the balls and weighing it in his hand. “I just want to get to know the real you, not the short, two-dimensional sex object peddled by Hollywood.” 

Evan gave a huff of laughter, though it seemed to lack mirth. “Nobody wants to get to know the real me,” he said, and it sounded a helluva lot more self-deprecating than Connor would’ve expected, given their battle of wits a few minutes prior. “But that’s, uh… nice of you to say.” He shook his head as Connor opened his mouth to respond, pointing to the skeeball lane. “Anyways. Balls in holes.” 

“...Balls in holes,” Connor repeated, though he couldn’t help his curiosity. Now that he wasn’t grabbing dick and taking names, Evan seemed a little more… subdued. It wasn’t bad, but it  _ was  _ interesting. 

Evan bit his lip, uncertainty flashing briefly over his face, and then grinned brightly. “Bring it on, big man.” 

Connor nearly  _ swooned _ . Had he ever mentioned that he was really  _ fucking gay _ ? 

“Okay,” he answered, and turned to the machine. Instead of rolling the ball like he was supposed to, though, he tossed it up into the air like a basketball, smirking towards Evan as it dropped into the one-hundred point hole. 

Evan’s eyebrows went up. “Ruh-roh,” he said, and then flushed. It was a healthy pink on those pale cheeks. Connor wanted to see them like that all the time. Instead of commenting on it, though, he winked and nodded in agreement. 

“Ruh roh.” 

 

They’d had sex that night, too, incredible, mind-blowing sex. Evan had gone in and out of his shell for those forty-eight minutes, and everything Connor had managed to get out of him had only attracted him more. Evan was a little bit of an enigma, cocky and witty one moment, and flushing and hesitant the next. It was both fucking hot and  _ really  _ fucking cute, and Connor didn’t exactly pride himself on calling other people any derivative of “cute.” So when Evan had informed him that their forty-eight minutes were up, Connor had offered up all the tickets they’d managed to acquire between them and asked how long that would get him, and the next thing he knew, he had Evan pressed against the wall in the tiny hallway that led to the bathroom near the skeeball lanes, and they were making out and holy  _ fuck _ Evan could kiss. The man may have been timid when things didn’t have to do with sex, but holy shit. When he had something to do with sex, that something was incredible. 

And that had been the start of it. They’d been together every night since. And while Connor wasn’t about to say he’d found his fairytale ending… Well. He  _ had _ proposed. And Evan had accepted! And things were great! 

 

Except things weren’t great. Things weren’t great at all. Because there was a man in a white coat staring expectantly at him, and Evan’s hand was gripping his own tightly, and Connor wasn’t actually sure if he’d taken a breath in the past five minutes because his lungs felt like they were about to explode. 

“Are you clowning? Not clowning? I sense clowns.” Connor barely resisted the urge to slam his face down on the desk the doctor was all but hiding behind. Evan squeezed his hand hard. 

The doctor’s look turned sympathetic, but Connor knew better than to think he was actually sorry. Cancer meant more money for him, right? His misfortune meant that the doctor got a thicker paycheck. “People react to the news of late stage cancer differently. There are certainly options we can look into. Drugs are being developed every day.” 

Every time Connor looked at Evan, he’d told himself that he’d finally found that stupid reason to live that everyone always talked about whenever he’d ever mentioned wanting to be dead. Because with Evan… He didn’t  _ want _ to be dead. He hadn’t even thought of suicide, of offing himself, since the night Evan had entered his life. And now, of all the times for the universe to kill him off… Now was the time it chose. Connor fucking hated the universe. He hated it more than anything. 

“--was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. With all these new experimental drugs--” Evan was talking, doing that quiet, desperate thing that he always did whenever he was pleading for something. Normally it was something silly, like asking Connor to sleep in with him, or begging to try and stretch their budget for a bar of chocolate for them to split. This was the same, and yet… different. This was Evan pleading for Connor’s life. 

And the worst part was that Connor had already given it up. 

He’d seen the things cancer did to people, and he’d seen the way it ripped their loved ones apart. He wasn’t going to do that to Evan. He… Fuck, he loved Evan too much for that. He was an asshole, and he had never once in a million years thought that he might love someone enough to give up for them, but he loved Evan. He loved Evan more than anything, and he wasn’t going to let this destroy him. For all his flaws, Evan was perfect. Connor couldn’t be the one to break that. He knew he was going to have to leave. It hurt, but not as much as him withering away would hurt Evan. 

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said... someday, I'll find the motivation to write the second chapter, which will be full of more Gay Angst and also feature Connor!Deadpool most likely grabbing dick and taking names. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are love!  
> Tumblr: deathishauntedbyhumans


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